The Goddess Oracle: Surrender to the unknown

The year begins with the promise of change, and filled with questions I still do not feel ready (or able) to answer. What will be of my career after I graduate? Will I earn enough money as a psychologist? Will I succeed at anything? Will I marry? Will I have children? Is there still time for any of that? Or will I be called to another path entirely?

While these preoccupations are usually just percolating in the back of my mind, sometimes they come to the forefront and the weight of them hits me really hard. I get nervous when I realise that I am far behind in achieving certain traditional adulthood milestones. Of course, a lot of that is my own tyrannical self-criticism doing its thing. It's not like my life is an utter disaster. I have a stable job, I have my own place, my own car, I am studying and I have excellent grades even though I both work and study... I am well-liked by my patients and colleagues. I'm doing my best with what I have in hands at the moment, but my inner critic only focuses on the ways I seem to be falling behind compared to my peers.

I am not a naturally anxious person. However, coming to the conclusion that certain issues are still beyond my control (because it is not time for me to tackle them just yet) can sometimes lead me to experience the "racing thoughts" people with anxiety often describe. This happened to me yesterday, and as I realised that running in circles (mentally) was not helping me get closer to any useful solution, I decided to turn to the cards for help.

I did not have a definite question; I just wanted to shed some light on what am I supposed to do with all these thoughts and doubts that I cannot solve yet, but that will not leave me either. The funny thing is that, as I shuffled the cards, the image of Yemaya's card flashed in my mind. And when she came up, I knew I was just getting a powerful confirmation of what I already (kind of) knew: the only way to deal with what is beyond your control is to surrender.

These two questions from the Goddess Oracle book hit me hard: Do you think you must do it all by yourself? Have you come up against a wall and feel the only way to get to the other side is by breaking through? Because they have ME written all over them. That is me: always believing that I must decide and do everything on my own, and often struggling against the walls because I fear nothing will happen if I don't break through them myself. Needless to say that I have a difficult time trusting others – even the Divine, sometimes.

So Yemaya was a gentle wake-up chant, telling me that I must do what I can with what I have in hands right now, and let the uncontrollable aspects of the future unfold as they may. You can plan ahead, but you cannot act ahead. The moment for certain decisions has yet to come; right now, I need to surrender and trust that the dots will somehow connect. It's not about giving up, but about realising that you can't skip steps in your life's journey. Like Nathan Algren says in The Last Samurai, you do what you can until destiny is revealed. And you must trust that destiny will reveal itself, one way or another.

After the reading, I lit a candle and an incense, thanking Her for gently untangling me from my anxious thoughts. I slept well for the first time in many nights.

Wholeness is nurtured when you realise that the only way through some situations is to surrender and open to something greater. ~ Yemaya, from The Goddess Oracle


The Goddess Oracle [Brazilian Edition] copyright © Amy Sophia Marashinsky & Hrana Janto

The Grail Tarot says... go to Her.

Spiritual thirst has the strangest effects on me.

It begins as an aggressive disconnection from the people around me. My eyes seem to lose their kindness, and I have quite violent thoughts about others, wishing they would all just disappear so that I may be alone and in silence. Then the aggression shifts inwards, and I turn the unkind eye to myself. I look at everything I am with disgust and, under my own relentless onslaught, I grow more and more alone and disconnected. I cannot reach out for others – they would not understand and I would feel exposed. I cannot reach within, because what hates me is in there. I am alone.

This week was filled with such moments. And as I felt the moon grow fuller, I just wanted some comfort. Someone who would listen and, through a radical acceptance, lend me some peace. Sadly, I have no one I feel that I can trust with that. Nowadays, not even my therapist.

It was during one of those episodes that I decided to use my good ol' Grail Tarot and ask for some... comfort. Really, I did not even have a well-defined question in my mind. I just wanted a sign. I used The Brothers Spread, a two-card layout that is taught in the book and that has helped me many times before.

The first card is is the Indicator, and is the answer to the question. Here we have the Six of Stones, which shows the Seeker kneeling before a status of the Virgin Mary after having all his things stolen. He's down to the bare bones, yet he must continue his journey. This card points there is a way out of a dark place, but one must be willing to ask for help or resort to someone in a higher position. For me, the meaning was very clear – it was high time I went to the Mother, to speak to her of my confusion and pain.

The second card, which is the Qualifier, only seemed to confirm this. I drew the Lady of Lances, and here we see the Pietà: Mary cradling the body of her dead son after the Passion of Christ. Mary supports Jesus' mortal body, carrying for it even through her own sorrow. According to The Grail Tarot book, this card means that even through the hardest moments, one is supported. "When things seem to heavy to bear, she [Mary] walks beside [the Seeker], offering her gentle wisdom and loving kindness to restore their spirits" (p.120). The first card told me to go to Her. To the Mother, She of a Thousand Faces, who called me to Her when I was but a child and taught me the ways of both light and darkness. The second card confirms - She is listening. Take your pain to Her, for She is there.

I went to my altar and wept, like I hadn't done in months. And there She was.



The Grail Tarot © REDFeather, John Matthews & Giovanni Caselli